A Tale of the Tallest
by Invader Sam
Summary: Red & Purple are appointed Tallest together...and it's not quite as great as they thought it would be. lol Now Chapter 2 is up! ^_^
1. Part I - The Passing On

A Tale of the Tallest: The Red & Purple Dynasty Begins  
  
By Sam & Shaun  
  
Part I –  
  
The Passing On  
  
A long time ago…well…you know the story…and I guess it's lame to steal from Star Wars, so anyway…  
  
It was a long time ago. Over a hundred Earth years, in fact. And the Tallest of the Irken race was dying. It hadn't been officially announced yet, but fearful rumors hung over the planet like darkness hangs over Gotham City (just finished watching Batman…^_^). The Irkens were keeping watch over the VidScreens that were attached to every skyscraper in the capitol city, hoping for some good news. So far, the authorities were keeping silent.  
  
In the Palace Medical Ward, the surgeons hurried about their business, scurrying around in the panicked way doctors always do. A few kept watch over their leader, Tallest Blu with ever growing concern. The monitors above his bed were showing signs of decreased Sqeegily Spooch activity – definitely not a good sign. They were doing all they could, but it seemed in vain. He was fading fast, and it wasn't surprising – he was nearly 300 years old!  
  
Blu coughed violently and the doctors watched helplessly as he coughed up a bit of purple blood. Their antennae drooped slightly. He turned to them with bleary eyes and said softly, "The soldiers that the guards are holding in the waiting room…bring them here…"  
  
The doctors rushed to do as he asked, scurrying around again. It wasn't long until they returned, followed by armed guards, who were escorting a pair of nervous looking, rather tall Irkens. Their names were Red and Purple, after their eye colors, and were just barley 50 years old (that's like a teenager in Irken terms). Neither of them could have guessed why they had been summoned.  
  
Blu saw them come in and smiled weakly. "Just the Irkens I wanted to see…"  
  
Red and Purple glanced at each other, and then lowered their heads in salute to their Tallest.  
  
"If you haven't heard…I'm afraid I don't have much more time in this world…" Blu said. He coughed again.  
  
"But…my Tallest…" Red stammered, "You-you can't mean that!"  
  
Purple nodded vigorously. "Yeah! Shouldn't the doctors be healing you?"  
  
The doctors in the room all scuffed their feet on the tile floor dejectedly.  
  
Blu sighed. "They've done all they can…Now listen carefully, you two," he said. Red and Purple's antennae perked up, straining to hear him. "You've been working as soldiers in my service for many years now…I'll admit you haven't been the best examples of fighters…but you've always looked out for each other. And you've gotten our planet out of more than a few tight spots…"  
  
Red and Purple just watched him with revered silence, not sure where he was going with this.  
  
"Also…" Blu continued, "I've had you measured in your sleep recently. And since you are both equal in height…you will both take the place as my successors…"  
  
Red and Purple blinked for a few seconds in shocked silence. Then Purple said, "I told you I felt something the other night!"  
  
Red elbowed his best friend in the ribs. "Shut up," he muttered. Then he looked back towards Blu, taking a few steps forward. "My Tallest…are you sure? I mean…this is a huge responsibility…Perhaps a soldier with a bit more experience…" He stared at the ground, his voice trailing off. He had dreamed of being a Tallest all his young life – why was he getting cold feet now??  
  
Purple gaped at Red, not believing what he was saying. How could he be giving up a chance like this? Purple knew he was never meant to be a soldier, and this was his way out of battle forever! He shot Red a pleading look, begging him to reconsider.  
  
Blu looked from one young Irk to the other and smiled contently. "I have faith…that you two…will do me proud…" he said, "I've been watching you for quite some time now…and I think you're ready…"  
  
Purple and Red caught each other's gaze, held it, then nodded solemnly. "Yes, sir," they said together, "It would be an honor."  
  
Blu sighed peacefully and shut his eyes. The monitors above him all flat-lined. The doctors flinched, ready to go into action, but they glanced around and bowed their heads. Red and Purple stared in heartbroken disbelief, their antennae drooping sadly.  
  
The lead doctor wrote down the date and time and went to broadcast the news to the public. Minutes later a long, planet-wide howl of sadness was heard as the news of their beloved leaders passing spread over the cities. It seemed each Irken was feeling the exact same emotion at exactly the same time. It was always like this when a Tallest passed away, and they all new what was to happen in the days to come. First a funeral for the former Tallest and then an anointing ceremony for the Tallest who was to take his place. This procedure had been programmed into their memory even before they were hatched, but none of them had ever considered the possibility of having two successors to the throne.  
  
Back in the Medical Ward, the doctors set to work preparing Blu's body for burial, while Red and Purple watched, feeling very out of place. Just then, one of Blu's assistants, an Irken (about half their height) named Mol hurried over to them. "You two – which one of you has Blu chosen to be his successor?" he asked.  
  
Red and Purple looked at each other, not sure what to say.  
  
"Um…" Purple said, "He…chose both of us…"  
  
Mol cocked a would-be eyebrow. "Both of you, eh?" He looked over at the doctors who all nodded simultaneously. "Well, it's a bit unorthodox, but very well. Come on, move it." He began pushing them towards the door.  
  
"Where are we going?" Purple asked.  
  
"To the fitting rooms of course," Mol said as he ushered them out the door.  
  
* * *  
  
"Ow!" Red cried, "I can't breathe in this thing!"  
  
The Soon-to-be-new-Tallests were now in the Palace Fitting Rooms. Each was bent over slightly, holding onto a metal bar on the wall, clad only in their underwear, while two Fitters tightened corsets around their stomachs.  
  
Mol stood off to one side, watching. He tried to hide his smile. This part of the process always amused him.  
  
Purple yelped as his Fitter pulled his corset even tighter. "Do we have to wear these things?" he moaned.  
  
"The people expect it," Mol said simply, "You don't want to disappoint them, do you?"  
  
Red bit his bottom lip as his corset string was yanked again. "You know," he said, "I always wondered how they got so thin."  
  
Purple nodded. "Yeah. I always thought they were anorexic or something-ack!" he cried out as his Fitter pulled the string one final time, then tied it in a knot at the bottom. Red's Fitter was doing the same, and he was gripping the metal bar very firmly.  
  
They stood up straight and looked at each other. They both suppressed a laugh, and then turned around to see themselves in full-length mirror.  
  
"We look ridiculous…" Purple said.  
  
"No kidding…" Red agreed.  
  
Mol stepped in between them. "No more time for small talk, ladies," he said, "On to Step Two!"  
  
"What's Step Two…?" Purple asked nervously.  
  
"Do we want to know?" Red asked sarcastically.  
  
Mol just grinned and nudged them along to the next room.  
  
* * *  
  
In the next room, the boys were positioned on stools, arms out straight to their sides, while another team of Fitters took their measurements.  
  
"I feel like a girl," Purple complained.  
  
"We're gonna look like girls," Red muttered, "Have you seen what those robes look like?"  
  
One of the Fitters, a young Irken female tapped Red on the shoulder. "Sir," she said, "If you would hold still, this would go much quicker." The other female Fitters giggled as only young girls can.  
  
Purple snickered. Red's right eye twitched uncomfortably.  
  
The girls finished their measuring and hurried off, as another group of them came bustling in, bringing in large piles of fabric, and lots of pins. They set to work right away, arranging the material loosely around the live mannequins, and using lots of pins. The pins couldn't help but make Red and Purple nervous.  
  
"Boy," Red said to one of the girls as she pinned fabric together at his shoulder, "You girls must get pretty bored, if this is all you do. I mean, a new Tallest only comes around every couple hundred years, right?"  
  
"Oh no, sir," the girl said, "We find that the Tallest wear their robes out more often then you'd think. We're kept pretty busy."  
  
The girls all made eye contact and giggled again. Red gulped.  
  
Soon enough, they were done and the dangerous pins were removed and the fabric was taken away, leaving the boys in nothing but their boxers and corsets once again.  
  
Purple exhaled heavily. "How much longer does this go on?"  
  
Mol checked his clipboard, hiding his smirk once again, "Oh, it shouldn't take the girls long to get the robes finished…of course, they've never had to do more than one at a time…I'd give it at least an hour."  
  
Red and Purple's eyes bugged out.  
  
"An hour??" Red said, "What're we supposed to do until then?? Hang around here in our underwear??"  
  
Mol nodded from behind his clipboard, holding back laughter.  
  
Red and Purple sat down on their stools. Red folded his arms and pouted. Purple just looked at the floor, feeling very awkward.  
  
Mol leaned against a wall casually, still suppressing a smile.  
  
* * *  
  
Meanwhile, word had spread across the planet: The funeral for Tallest Blu would be held at sundown that night and the anointing of the successor would be held a sunup the next morning.  
  
The workers in Capitol City rushed to prepare the Sacred Temple. Civilians everywhere were making themselves ready as well, as it was custom for every Irken to be present at the Burial Ceremony, or at least in the center of their city to watch the proceedings on the VidScreens.  
  
Invaders off planet made arrangements to receive the transmission from where they were. Soldiers working at home were to watch the ceremony from their posts, while keeping an eye on their active duty.  
  
Even the hatchlings in The Nest were going to have access to it. And the Nurses who worked there could tell that the infants had felt the loss of their leader as well, as each newborn's antennae had drooped sadly after the news had reached them.  
  
There are some species whose minds are connected no matter what, but it took something like the loss of a great leader to bring all Irken together from their various places and positions in society. Why, even the Irken delegates were going to be watching the ceremony from Planet Democracia.  
  
Yes, it took something like that to bring a conqueror race to come together for a purpose other that conquering. And when it happened, it was a wondrous site to behold.  
  
* * *  
  
Back at the Palace, an hour had passed and Red and Purple were now dressed in their newly-made Traditional Tallest Robes. They now stood staring at themselves in the full-length mirror again, the Fitters standing behind them, eagerly awaiting some form of approval.  
  
Purple held his tongue to what he really thought and gave the girls a thumbs-up sign and a forced smile. "They look great…really," he said.  
  
The girls giggled again, wiggled their antennae in salute, then hurried out of the room.  
  
One they were gone, Red spoke up. "We look like girls…" he pouted again.  
  
Purple nodded. "I know…" he looked down at his robe and sighed, "Lavender…it figures…"  
  
"Hey, quit complaining," Red snapped, "At least yours isn't…" he made a disgusted face, "…ugh…pink…"  
  
Purple snickered. Red glared at him.  
  
Mol stepped in between them again. "Ok, fabulous. You look great – trust me. Now come on – we've got to get you two prepared for the Burial Ceremony," he said, "Can't have you making fools of yourselves at your first public appearance, now can we?" He started to walk off.  
  
Red and Purple tried to follow, but couldn't, seeing as they weren't used to the hover-lifts in the hems of their robes.  
  
"Um…how do we walk if we can't touch the ground?" Purple asked.  
  
Mol turned around. "Hmm…how do I explain this," he mused, tapping a finger to his chin, "The hover-lifts on your robes act on your will. If you just think about following me, the lifts will take you there."  
  
Red and Purple looked at each other.  
  
"That sounds easy enough," Red said.  
  
Then they both attempted to move at the same time, wobbled unsteadily, collided into each other and ended up in a small heap on the tile floor. They grinned up at Mol embarrassedly.  
  
Mol put a hand on his forehead. "Boy, have I got my hands full with these two…" he mumbled, shaking his head. 


	2. Part II - Basic Training

Part II –  
  
Basic Training  
  
Mastering the hover-lifts took some doing, but within a half-hour, Mol had led them to the throne room, which was under construction at the moment. A crew of technicians was installing a second throne, trying to hide their confusion as to why. They looked up when Mol entered with Red and Purple, and nodded slightly, now understanding – sort of. They wiggled their antennae in salute, and then continued their work.  
  
Purple leaned closer to Red. "Do you get the feeling everyone's staring at us?" he asked.  
  
Red shrugged. "It's natural, isn't it?" he said, "I mean, we are the new rulers of the planet. The common Irkens should be curious."  
  
Mol cleared his throat. "If I could have your attention – I've got a lot to teach you and only a few hours to do it," he said, pacing in front of them. He stopped and glared at them, "So there'll be no goofing-off, is that clear?"  
  
Despite his short stature, Mol had an air of authority about him, and Red and Purple, being used to receiving orders from superiors, snapped to attention. "Sir, yes, sir!" they chorused.  
  
The technicians glanced at each other in amazement. They knew Blu had hired Mol to train the newbies – but none of them had realized he would be good at it. They slowed their progress, wanting to watch as much as they could.  
  
Back in the center of the room, Mol resumed his pacing. "The first thing you have to understand," he said, "Is that you never salute anyone anymore. The whole respecting authority thing has to be thrown right out the window – as of sunup tomorrow, YOU are authority. There is no one who ranks above you, no matter how intimidating they may seem."  
  
Red and Purple exchanged glances. Red grinned.  
  
"So…" he said, "You mean we don't have to listen to you, even?" he asked.  
  
"As of sunup tomorrow," Mol said, "Yes. Until then – you are still soldiers. Nothing more than a tool of the Irken Military."  
  
"But –" Purple began.  
  
Mol raised a hand. "Let me finish. Your rank hasn't changed yet – but your behavior should. I'll have no more salutes from you. You have to learn how to present yourself as royalty, seeing as that's what you are to be."  
  
"Um…" Purple said, "How does royalty act…?"  
  
"I was getting to that," Mol said. He held his clipboard out in front of him. "Rule number one – and this shouldn't be a problem for you two – You should always recognize the fact that you're better than every other Irken in the galaxy."  
  
Red smirked, "No problem there."  
  
Purple frowned, "But Blu never acted like he was above anyone else, and the people loved him anyway," he protested.  
  
Mol's expression softened. "Tallest Blu was…an exception…" he said, "He chose to rule by love rather than by fear…and it happened to work. But that doesn't mean that will work for you two. You don't really seem the compassionate sort."  
  
Purple looked hurt. Red looked indignant.  
  
"Are you saying the people won't love us?" he demanded.  
  
Mol shrugged. "It all depends. If you make a good impression tonight at the Burial Ceremony, the people may respect you almost as much as they did Blu." He paused, "Which is why these lessons are so important. Now back to business. Rule number two – never say anything that you haven't run through in your head at least once. We don't want you saying anything stupid on an impulse."  
  
"That makes sense…I think…" Purple said.  
  
Mol nodded, "Good. And make sure what you say makes sense. The masses are confused enough already." He grinned.  
  
Red narrowed his eyes. He wasn't sure he liked this guy. He seemed to be…lacking in respect. That would have to change once they were anointed.  
  
Mol continued. "Rule number three – greeting the public. You have to acknowledge them, but subtly. Too much waving makes your arms sore real fast."  
  
"Especially with these arm bands on," Purple added, flexing his right arm, trying to estimate the weight.  
  
"What the point of them, anyway?" Red asked, holding his arms up, looking at the bands.  
  
"Decoration," Mol said, "The robes go back for too long for anyone to remember why they look the way they do."  
  
Red and Purple nodded.  
  
Mol cleared his throat. "Moving right along. Rule number four – As Tallest, you have to know each treaty we have with other races – as some are crucial to keeping the people safe."  
  
"How are we supposed to know all of that junk?" Red asked.  
  
* * *  
  
"You had to ask, didn't you?" Purple muttered. He and Red were seated in the Palace Library, at a table riddled with books and legal documents as well as a stack of vid disks, detailing the complete and "unbiased" History of Irk.  
  
Mol snapped a finger at them. "Hey – cut the chatting," he said, "You'll spend an hour a day reading these until you know it all. And their stacked in order of importance, so start at the top of the pile."  
  
Red and Purple looked at each other, smiled, and pushed the books off of the table. Mol watched, wide-eyed as the popped the first vid disk into the slot in the table, pulled out popcorn & soda, dimmed the lights, and sat back to enjoy an hour of the History of Irk.  
  
* * *  
  
Meanwhile, the rest of the planet was still preparing for the Burial Ceremony. The capitol city was buzzing with solemn activity. The workers were putting the final touches on the Sacred Temple. The civilians who walked passed could only stare at the outer surface in wonderment, and puzzle over how it would look when it was opened that night.  
  
But the big question that lingered in every Irkens mind was: who would take the place of their beloved Tallest Blu? They each privately wracked their brains, but could think of no one. Not one tall Irken stood out in their minds as particularly right for the part. Blu had just been so…irreplaceable.  
  
And so the Irkens came to a planet-wide conclusion. They would just have to wait and see. And boy, were they in for a surprise.  
  
* * *  
  
Back at the Palace, Mol had cut the movie at exactly an hour, and marched (or floated…?) the rookies back to the throne room, to complete their lessons.  
  
The second throne had been completed and the technicians had reluctantly left the room.  
  
"I claim the new one!" Red cried, floating over to the new throne and seating himself in it (very carefully, as he and Purple were both still a bit unsteady on the hover-lifts).  
  
"No fair," Purple whined. Then he smiled. "Fine," he said, "I get Tallest Blu's throne." He smirked as he watched Red's face contort as he realized he been duped.  
  
Mol grinned. "Well now, that tells me a lot about your characters already," he said.  
  
"How?" Red and Purple asked together.  
  
"Simple," Mol said, "Red – you chose the new throne. You like being the best at things. You probably don't handle defeat well. You also probably value the surface of something over it's inner worth."  
  
Red growled. It wasn't true – not entirely.  
  
"Oh wait," Mol said, noting his anger, "You most likely have a lot of emotions bottled up inside – but your over-inflated ego keeps them from showing."  
  
Purple laughed. "He's got you pegged pretty good, Red."  
  
"Purple –" Mol said, making Purple cut his laughter short, "You're more the brains of the operation, but your naivety makes you seem clueless at times. You can always see both sides of an argument, so decision making is probably hard for you. Also, you're more of a follower than a leader."  
  
Purple just stared at him, jaw hanging open. Red snickered, "He's got you pegged, too, Purple."  
  
"But enough of this," Mol said, waving a hand dismissively, "We've got two more hours before the Ceremony. It's time to crank this boot-camp into overtime."  
  
* * *  
  
The next couple lessons went smoothly enough. Mol briefed them on handling the press and dealing with other planets that were angry at them.  
  
"Not bad, boys," he said, pressing a button on his clipboard, making the list scroll to the next page. "Rule number seven – renegotiating treaties. This is always complicated."  
  
"How could it be?" Red asked, "It's just reaching an agreement with someone else…right?"  
  
"Seems simple, doesn't it?" Mol said, "And sometimes it is. Treaties can range to matters as simple as trade routes and as complicated as keeping peace with a rival conquering race. Our main rivals are the Zhengians."  
  
Red and Purple exchanged glances again. They had been taught about the Zhengians when they were young. They knew, as every Irken knew, how important it was to keep peace with their most formidable enemies (ironic foreshadowing…lol).  
  
"So you're not as thick as I thought," Mol said, noting their serious expressions, "Than this one should be self explanatory. Your reading those books in the Library should prove useful when it comes to maintaining peace with other planets. But we can go over those tomorrow." He checked his clipboard again. "Rule number eight – organizing invasions. This should be review, seeing as you've both served in the military for a while, right?"  
  
"Yep," Red said proudly, "And we were Invaders before that."  
  
"As is customary," Mol said, "So you know standard Invader protocol and the like. And you've both had military experience?"  
  
Purple nodded, "Two wars, though I can't say either of them was a pleasant experience."  
  
Mol eyed him, "You really weren't cut out for the military, were you?"  
  
"No sir," Purple said, "It turns out, I was meant to be a Scholar, but since Red and I were born at exactly the same time…the cold, unfeeling robot arm got confused and…well…it's a long story…"  
  
"Which we really don't have time for right now," Mol said, "But I'd definitely like to hear about it sometime, though."  
  
And so lessons continued for the rest of the two hours and it wasn't long before a long low horn was sounded all across the planet. Irkens everywhere perked up their antennae and proceeded to the predetermined location of their viewing of the Burial Ceremony.  
  
In the Palace, Mol stood between Red and Purple again and told them, "It's…Showtime!" Then he hurried them out of the room to join the procession. One of Irk's most memorable nights was about to begin. 


End file.
